


what we may be

by DarkrystalSky



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Julia Burnsides Lives, a twist on the characters you love, this is au but what kind of au? spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-20
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-05-09 12:41:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14716241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkrystalSky/pseuds/DarkrystalSky
Summary: Lord, we know what we are, but know not what we may be.- William Shakespeare, Hamlet, Act 4 Scene 5I saw Six Supervisors, the Bureau watches over, the Bureau controls everything. One fell for money and landed in the stocks, one fell for love and dragged her heart away, one waits for sunsets, then sunrise, one observes, deduces and considers, one lives in short lived peace, one studies and goes beyond the realm of life and death. One watches over them all, turned from canary to bird of prey, rules over the world and cries."One of them dying truly is the nightmare scenario."





	1. these poor compounds

**Author's Note:**

> _There is thy gold, worse poison to men’s souls, doing more murder in this loathsome world, than these poor compounds that thou mayst not sell._ _I sell thee poison. Thou hast sold me none._
> 
> _\- William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act 5 Scene 1_

Captain Bane walked with a skip in his step towards the Glamour Springs Militia’s office. This was going to be the last job he ever had to take in this godforsaken dump if everything was successful, and of course it was going to be. After it, what expected him was a promotion and a transfer to the definitely warmer and richer city of Goldcliff.

His second, Lieutenant Hurley, was already there when he reached his destination, the local sheriff briefing her about the case.

“Multiple manslaughters, fifteen people dead, twenty-six more in critical. The suspect is currently detained and ready for interrogation,” she summarized as soon as she glimpsed Bane walking around the corner.

Bane grinned at the extremely efficient briefing, that’s why he liked the little halfling. “I’m going in,” he announced, without even waiting for the sheriff’s reply.

The office was small, too small for his taste, but at least it was easy to pinpoint the direction of the detainment cells. There were only a couple of them, empty except for the suspect, an elf still wearing a damn cooking apron. Glamour Springs might have been small and damp, but at least it was peaceful.

Well, until today, at least.

“Forty-one people poisoned at a cooking show,” Bane announced, repeating the line he’d heard the newsboy announce that very morning. “Sounds like a…”

“Bane…” a familiar voice called and Captain lowered his head to finally look at the suspect in the eyes. It took him a moment to figure out who he was standing in front of because he definitely wasn’t expecting this very person to stand in a prison cell, alone, and with a confused and shocked look in his eyes.

Bane quickly glanced at the room behind him, confirming he was alone before approaching the bars and lowering his voice. “What the fuck are you doing here, Sazed?”

“I- I don’t know…” the man’s voice quivered. His hands, clasped in his lap, were shaking.

“What do you mean you don’t know?! Where is he?” Bane asked with more urgency in his voice.

“He’s at the chapel, receiving cures like the rest of the survivors-” Sazed grabbed his head in panic. “Oh, gods, if he died- if he dies-”

“Calm down,” Bane grabbed a chair nearby and dragged it to the bars, sitting down to be at eye level with him.

“Please, don’t contact the Director. Please-” Sazed looked at him with tears streaking his cheeks.

“I’ll have to, you know. But before that, I need to know exactly what happened.”

Sazed took a deep breath, a second, a third, and finally managed to calm down enough to start narrating.

-

“Pawn to F3,” the man repeated, for the fourth time. For the third time, his friend shook his head, looked away from the sparkling sea waters.

“Of course, of course,” he said, turning his focus back to the chessboard like he wasn’t going to get distracted one more time by a ship passing in the distance, a seagull’s cry or simply the light show on the surface of the water.

John didn’t care, this was a routine he was used to. It was radically different from his life before, but that didn’t mean he didn’t appreciate it. Life on the beach was slow, days stretching endlessly, without a worry or an edge to it. Another might have found this kind of life boring, but John loved it.

After all, that’s why the Director chose this job for him.

“Rook to E4.”

Merle’s voice distracted him from his train of thought. The dwarf was once again looking at the sea with a somewhat absent smile: sometimes John had to wonder if the dwarf really loved the sea so much or it was something else that painted that expression on his face.

John moved Merle’s tower as instructed and after a few moments moved his own. “Pawn to E4, that wasn’t a good move.”

Merle didn’t reply. He didn’t speak much.

John could remember the heated discussion at the Parley table, the dwarf sternly defending his principles and resisting John’s silver tongue like no one had ever been able to. The dwarf fascinated and scared him, and yet John couldn’t help but come back to him.

“Rook to E4,” Merle repeated, in a daze.

“You don’t have a rook anymore, my friend. My pawn crushed it from the ground up, removed a brick from its foundations and it collapsed on itself.”

Merle chuckled at the unexpected prose. “You’re such a bard.”

“Inspirational speaker,” John corrected him, with a hint of a smile on his face. “Your turn.”

-

Steven Waxman didn’t have great needs in his life. His small workshop, his daughter’s smile, good wood to work on and food on his table was all he ever needed to live happily. When his wife passed away, though, deep in his heart he wished Julia would find a husband or wife of her own and move out of the nest, leaving the old workshop, visiting sometimes, but finding satisfaction for herself.

But when she came back from a trip, bringing a man with her, it wasn’t exactly what Steven had pictured. Magnus was gentle and kind, and moved in the same way big dogs that have forgotten they’re not puppies anymore do. Julia took care of him like of a stray puppy, doted on him even, observing with loving eyes as his rough, violent hands slowly became gentler as they carved animal shapes in the wood.

Steven trusted his daughter, never questioned the weird couriers in blues and silver that periodically brought them bags of gold or her mysterious relationship to Magnus. He trusted her, but didn’t trust the men and neither did Julia.

It was her idea to, one day, pack up shop and move to another town, a remote hermitage called Raven’s Roost, supervised by a nobleman who accepted to keep them out of the men in blue’s sight in exchange for a few gold pieces.

And in Raven’s Roost, where they quickly discovered the seemingly complacent noble who welcomed them in the town was a corrupt and ruthless dictator, paradoxically was where Magnus finally thrived.

Defending the poor and unfortunate souls from the tyrant’s cruelty was his calling and quickly he and Julia gathered enough people to form a proper revolution and raided the noble’s castle.

Magnus asked Julia to marry him three days after the rebellion. The ceremony was shortly after, and it took place in a gazebo he built himself. Half the town, a flourishing and newly self-governing town, attended and it was the happiest day of Julia’s life.

Or, at least, it was bound to be, until one of her friends from the rebellion approached her just as she had finished dancing with her father.

“I wouldn’t bother you if this wasn’t urgent,” she started, quiet but nervous. “Katalina has spotted a few of those guys in silver and blue near the town’s entrance.”

Ice sank into Julia’s heart as she grabbed Magnus’ hand as he was still talking with some guests. And then the reception had to end, they packed their bags and left the town in the dead of night, sneaking past the guards of the Bureau Of Balance like petty criminals.

Magnus didn’t understand, but he trusted her fully and it was breaking her heart.

A few months later, Kalen bombed the town.

Julia never saw her father again.

-

Hurley didn’t know who the ‘Specialist’ her superior officer called was, she had only heard rumors of ‘The World’s Greatest Detective’, but despite the impressive title, she was the kind of woman who waited to meet someone before judging them.

The man who appeared on the door was nothing like she expected: he looked old, no, ancient, with pristine white hair and moustache, wearing a wool mantle and a deerstalker, like some kind of retired hunter. His back straight like a rod, despite the apparently frail body, white gnarled fingers closed around a silver cane with a weird rune carved on the pommel.

Bane smirked when he finally noticed the man approaching and without missing a beat, embraced him like an old friend. “It’s been a while, Augustus.”

“Indeed,” the old man nodded. “I hope this doesn’t take long I had to…” he cleared his throat and then shifted, revealing a small figure standing behind him.

“Good evening, sir!”

Captain Bane blinked, taking in the weird sight of a child not older than six dressed in the exact same fashion as the old man, and holding to his chest a leather-bound volume bigger than his head.

“Uhm-” Bane’s eyes flicked between the two.

“This,” the old man gently ruffled the boy’s head. “Is Angus. He’s my ward and my grandson.”

“I didn’t know you had k-”

“He’s my grandson.”

He repeated the words in the exact same tone, but he wasn’t smiling any longer, and instead, he stared in Bane’s eyes with an intensity that made Hurley shiver.

“It’s- that’s fine, but-” Bane stammered, lowering his voice. “He can’t come with us, the Director-”

“I can keep an eye on him,” Hurley butted in and immediately she realized her superior officer’s posture relaxed.

“Yes, that’s- good idea, Lieutenant. Don’t let anyone in.”

He still looked nervous, like he’d been from the moment he realized he knew who the prisoner was. Hurley trusted his decisions and yet couldn’t help but wonder uneasily why he hadn’t told the local militia.

As the two men walked inside the building, their dialogue became too muffled for her to follow, and she gave up on trying to eavesdrop when she realized the kid was staring at her, eyes wide and full of marvel.

“Are you a dryad, ma’am?” he asked softly.

“Uh, yes. Long story,” she chuckled. “I usually let my wife tell it…”

“I apologize, this is the first time I meet one of you.”

“It’s fine, what’s your name?” she asked, moving over the bench to leave the kid place to sit.

The kid beamed and coughed quietly, clearly imitating his grandfather. “I’m Angus McDonald, Apprentice Detective, ma’am.”

“I’m Hurley. Uh-” she had run out of topics. “Nice weather.”

Angus giggled, swinging his legs. “Are you interested in the interrogation?”

Hurley blinked. Where was he going with that? “Uh?”

Under her astonished gaze, the kid opened the book right to the middle, flipping through pages and pages completely blank. Only when he stopped, she saw words starting to form right under her eyes.

-

Sazed’s eyes snapped open when he heard the small cell’s door opening with a metallic clunk and Bane walked in carrying two wooden chairs. When he put them down and turned around, August walked in and condescendingly looked down at the elf.

“You…” Sazed’s face shifted with fear, then resignation. “Then the Director knows…”

“Of course she knows, Supervisor.” Bane said, sitting down. “You hid your whereabouts for two years, exploited one of the birds for monetary gain and then almost triggered the nightmare scenario,” he listed, his voice increasingly loud and altered.

It was Augustus who, unflappable and calm, made him sit down before speaking.

“We’ll listen to your version and escort you to the Bureau, where you’ll receive a fair trial.” He looked at a pocket watch he had on him. “Five minutes from...now.”

-

“Is this even legal?” Hurley said, her voice barely a whisper as she looked at the words like mesmerized.

“I don’t think so,” Angus admitted, after musing on it for a couple of seconds. “But Grandpa gave it to me to use ‘at my discretion’.”

“I...see…” she frowned. This was weirder than she thought it was going to be. Supervisor? Director? Bane wasn’t talking about his superior, who was he working for?

Who were the birds?

‘It started out pretty normal, he was making chili chicken…’ Sazed’s words appeared in some kind of dark green on the page, opposed to Bane’s light blue and the detective’s almost unreadable grey. ‘He knows I hate chili, but I supposed that was still because of the argument.’

‘What argument?’ Bane asked. ‘You said nothing about an argument earlier.’

The words faded away as a long moment of silence ensued. Hurley almost missed the silver ‘Four Minutes’ that appeared.

‘It was nothing! A trifling matter! He wanted his name on the show! Sizzle it Up  _ with Taako, _ but that would’ve’

‘Caught the Director’s eye,’ Bane continued. ‘You fucking asshole!’

Hurley could even hear the scream that accompanied the words and she flinched.

‘I don’t know what happened, I swear! He started eating together with the audience instead of sampling the dish before, that was a little weird.’

‘Captain, let him go.’ Augustus said.

Another long pause gave the words time to fade.

‘A little weird, you said?’ the detective spoke again.

‘Yes, he always had this- this routine, right? He cooks, he shows off, he tastes, he gives off samples. This time was different.’

Hurley had to look up from the book when she heard a panicked call and saw one of her fellow soldiers, clad in blue and silver, running towards the militia building like he was being chased by a dragon.

“Where’s Captain Captain Bane?” he grabbed Hurley’s shoulders and stared at her wide-eyed like a lunatic.

Hurley could only point at the open door before he made a beeline for the holding cells. Despite her orders, she was too curious and surprised not to follow and she was just in time to see Bane walking out of the open cell and screaming at the poor soldier.

“What do you mean he’s gone?!”

“I- I don’t- don’t know-” the young man blurted out, holding in his hands a small glass vial that still contained traces of a black powder. “The clerics found this under his cot.”

Augustus walked out slowly and took it firmly but gently out of his hands, uncapped, sniffed and finally took a pinch of it and tasted it.

“Augustus!” Bane exclaimed in surprise.

“As I thought.” Augustus nodded. “This is ground bezoar, mixed…” he took another sample, “with the coals from a willow tree, it’s an antidote to most poisons.”

“And he had it on him?” Bane asked the soldier, who just shook his head in panic.

“What’s going on?” the suspect stood up, dread creeping on his face even before everybody turned around to face him.

-

The caravan stopped suddenly as Ren was writing and the pen made a long jagged line across the parchment. She sighed as she heard the driver’s shrill voice scream something at some poor unfortunate soul.

She perked up as she heard a somewhat familiar voice reply.

“Listen, I am but a humble idiot with a satchel full of gold. You going to Neverwinter? I got some gold to give you-- that’s how people do deals, right?”

Ren stood absolutely still as the driver silently mused on it. “10 gold pieces,” she finally grudgingly conceded. “And you’re not my only passenger.”

“Fair enough,” he replied and Ren heard the distinct clink of gold coins falling.

Finally, the girl resolved to take a peek outside but she hadn’t even moved the curtain when she heard a grunt and a thump on the ground and then, suddenly and abruptly the wagon sprinted forward, making her fall on her back.

When she finally managed to get back on her feet and move the fabric that separated her from the driver, she didn’t see the rude dwarf that picked her up in the Underdark. Instead, she saw a familiar silhouette in a white apron and a wizard’s hat.

“Oh my god,” Ren felt a grin spread over her face as he turned to look at her in surprise. “You’re Taako! From the cooking show!”

He grinned. “Yes, of course, I’ll give you an autograph. Now, I don’t- can’t. We have our hands just full of...uh, reins.”

He was holding the harness amateurly, pulling it too often and straining the horses but the road was flying below them as they sped away from a small village Ren never heard the name of.

“What are you doing here?” she asked him, almost shouting so that her voice could fight the heavy wind.

“I’m running away!” he giggled. “A bad man ruined our show- my show. It was there, that person…” he trailed off, muttering something that Ren couldn’t hear.

“Why are you going to Neverwinter?”

He shrugged, seemingly using his whole body to do so. “I guess that’s as good as any place to start looking from.”

“What are you looking for?”

“Too many questions, the Q&A is closed for today, Taako is done!” he exclaimed, stressing the last word with a glance that made Ren’s grin freeze. Not that she cared much about the driver, but what happened to her?

She sat back down in the wagon, leaving the tent open just enough to see the road. This wasn’t exactly what she’d pictured but she had left the Underdark looking for adventure and now the man who inspired her to leave just appeared in her journey.

She smiled, recovering her parchment and charcoal. She might just have been lucky.


	2. imprison’d in the viewless winds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _To be imprison'd in the viewless winds,_   
>  _And blown with restless violence roundabout_   
>  _The pendent world; or to be worse than worst_   
>  _Of those, that lawless and incertain thought_   
>  _Imagine howling; 'tis too horrible!_
> 
> _\- William Shakespeare, Julius Caesar, Act 3 Scene 1_   
> 

Necromancy.

The arcane science exploring the very transformations of energy related to the  _ soul _ of living beings. Some necromancy spells affected plants and ley lines, which sparked heated discussions inside the relatively small community of researchers residing at the Bureau on whether this meant they possessed souls of some kind.

A branch of the arcane arts deeply frowned upon by clerics of all kind, not just those devoted to gods  _ specifically _ against the rules of life and death. Magic that blurred lines between dead and alive, creating false life in golems and magitech devices, extending one’s lifespan, animating bodies without a soul.

Lucas’ mother was a magitech engineer, a brilliant inventor that made the Miller name known all through the land, but much like Lucas himself, she dabbled into experiments that, if brought to light, would have soiled her reputation forever. She kept her true passion a secret, carefully, even from the Bureau she helped create. Lucas, on the other hand, was 18 years old and still learning the meaning of the word  _ careful  _ as he studied a large sapphire mirror standing on the wall of his room.

Suddenly, the door slammed open and he didn’t even have the chance to grab the sheet he’d normally use to cover the mirror before someone very familiar barged in.

“What the fuck, Barry!” he shrieked, before recomposing himself and hiding his research papers under the bed.

Lucas didn’t know much about Barry. He was a strange man and he’d been some kind of weird brother to him since Lucas’ mother dragged him into her house one day with no explanation. Barry didn’t talk much, and sometimes he would stay awake through the night with his eyes wide open like a corpse. He was weird and didn’t talk much but  _ damn _ if he didn’t have a knack for necromancy. It was Barry, and not Maureen that taught Lucas his first necromancy cantrip,  _ Toll the Dead, _ a cantrip that got more powerful the higher the spellcaster’s level. And cast by Barry? It was enough to kill the Miller’s pet constrictor snake on one hit.

Not that he’d done it out of malice, Maureen assured him. Barry just got scared one morning when Dr. Tesla Coil - Tess for short - slithered out of her cage to slide across the kitchen and grab a few treats.

RIP Tess.

At least Lucas knew Barry was sorry when he saw Tess, with some more stitches on her body than he remembered, coiling gently in her glass tank, a few days later. The zombie snake was all Lucas needed to finally get fully immersed into necromancy, and soon he found out how to, theoretically, establish a link to the Astral Plane.

But all that had to wait, Barry had just barged into his room, eyes wide and hair ruffled like he had - again - stayed awake all night doing some sort of creepy and/or useless experiment.

And he was holding a cucumber.

“What the fuck, man,” Lucas repeated, now calmer and slightly horrified by the probable implication of Barry Bluejeans - probably not his real name - holding a cucumber and showing it like it was some dragon’s fang or precious scroll.

And the reveal came in a hushed tone from the mouth of a man that  _ definitely  _ needed some sleep. “It was a pickle.”

The truth took a moment to settle, and it did with a gravity that absolutely  _ crushed _ Lucas’ views on the world, magic and science. “What did you-” he said, barely a whisper.

“Animate dead.”

“Are you implying that pickles are just dead cucumbers?”

“Do you realize what this implies…” Barry’s voice raised in pitch as he panicked.

“Why did you use  _ Animate Dead _ on a pickle?!” Lucas screeched just as the door to his room opened again to Maureen making her entrance in the room.

Maureen looked down at the two of them, one eyebrow raised, before sighing deeply. “I thought I told you to stay away from Necromancy spellbooks, Barry.”

“I’m sorry,” the man said sheepishly, hunching his shoulder. The woman behind her was familiar, but not too familiar, but not too not familiar, like someone met in a dream once…

She didn’t even glance at Lucas. “Hello, Barry,” she smiled hesitantly. “My name is Lucretia, I was hoping we could talk.”

-

Ren didn’t get Taako. Like, at all.

The elf was elusive, mysterious at times, and then said something that made the girl wonder whether or not he was just  _ completely stupid. _ She followed him even after she was quite certain he  _ disposed _ of the carriage owner when they met, after all becoming a chef and following in his footsteps had been her dream and the very reason she left the Underdark.

It was soon clear that had been a bad move. Taako didn’t have any interest in mentoring her: he had talent, for sure, but it was soon clear his mind lacked any kind of order. He’d start recipes in the middle of the night, without even making sure he had all the right ingredients - he’d transmute the missing ones - and then refused to prepare lunch at the right time.

He had no intention of continuing his show and the reason was made clear once the news arrived to Neverwinter: his former assistant had recently been sentenced to death for sabotaging the show and poisoning half a town. Taako had been the only survivor of the mass poisoning and if Ren thought too much about it she would start to feel sick in her stomach.

Anyway, she learned after a while, the show wasn’t Taako’s main interest.

_ He was looking for someone. _

“Someone I lost,” he muttered, in a moment of weakness, after Ren brought up the subject. “Someone who was taken from me.”

“Who?”

He shrugged, smiling, but his eyes were unsteady, unfocused, searching the crowd, linger for a few seconds on each passing face.

“I don’t know,” he admitted in the end, when Ren had already given up on receiving an answer. “I just know I need to find her…”

He looked lost, vulnerable at times, and then arrogant and self confident the next moment.

He was a man wrapped in an enigma wrapped in a hard bitter shell that made the inside even more intriguing.

And Ren just couldn't bring herself to leave him alone.

Her career as a chef wasn't going too well and Taako was clearly unable to take care of himself, she couldn't really find a job to sustain both of them so she reluctantly turned to the most remunerative yet dangerous choice of career.

Adventuring.

"You're a wizard, right?" She wondered out loud while reviewing the job offer, a bodyguard to a certain miner, seemed easy enough.

"Yup!" Taako popped the P as he helped packing their bags. And by helping he meant scattering all their belongings out of the bags and into the room to fill the bag with trinkets he collected whenever he saw something that ‘reminded him of That Person’.

Ren thought she deserved a prize for putting up with him, or at least a vacation.

"What level?"

"Dangerous~" he teased her, grinning. 

Ren glared at him, unimpressed. "So, like, level one?"

Taako shook his head, offended.

“Two?”

Taako nodded, with determination and totally misplaced pride.

Ren looked at him then at the mess around the room and his bag. "We're so dead..."

-

Angus McDonald knew his Grandfather was a  _ great  _ man. He was famous all over the land for his skills and he had taken Angus in when no one else would, raising him as his own, teaching him and yet never overstepping his boundaries.

Angus had never gone to school, never played with children his age. Instead, he spent his days learning magic and medicine from the books in his Grandfather’s massive library. Just a year before, he’d begged him to assist him during his cases and  _ oh, how proud he’d looked when Angus solved the case at the same time as him. _ The Militia too had been impressed, the local Captain had stopped treating Angus as a child and now kept his advice in high regard.

But there were times when even his Grandfather wouldn’t tell Angus everything. It wasn’t to protect him, no: at his age, Angus had seen firsthand the worst crime scenes and faced the most wicked criminals. Angus was pretty sure his Grandfather was protecting himself.

So, Angus had an arcanist help him enchant a book so that it would intercept speech, he’d follow his grandpa and discovered secrets that would have taken empires down. Crimes committed by people too influential to come to light, needed to be solved in secret. Magic artifacts so powerful they’d rivaled the Grand Relics of old, that Grandfather acquired and hid in his basement.

And then Glamour Springs: his grandfather hadn’t let him stay, but from his Stone of Farspeech he stayed in contact with Lieutenant Hurley and managed to gather that Sazed had been executed for a crime that he likely didn’t commit.

Angus knew his Grandfather was a  _ great _ man.

He also knew he wasn’t a  _ good _ one.

They’d taken the first train home, returning to Neverwinter in the middle of the night. The lights were on, in their mansion, and a delicious smell pervaded the halls.

Despite his grim thoughts, Angus found himself smiling as he rushed to the kitchen, leaving his bags for the servants to take care of.

The elf was cooking some kind of stew and didn’t show any sign of noticing Angus rushing in.

“We’re back!” Angus called her.

The elf smiled but didn’t look up, her eyes as tired and unfocused as always. Angus wasn’t sure what her deal was but Grandfather had taken her in as well, not long before Angus, and despite her inability to communicate, she was an excellent cook and Angus loved to watch her work and talk to her about the latest case or novel he’d read.

Without a word or a glance, she grabbed an empty plate and a spoon, filling it with a small portion of stew and leaving it on the counter.

Angus grinned. She’d heard him, even though she wasn’t showing it. He grabbed a chair and immediately tried the piece of meat in the plate. It was delicious, as always, a rhapsody of flavours that exploded in his mouth. Before he’d realized, the plate was empty and clean.

“It’s amazing, again,” he thanked her. She smiled again. “Thank you, miss Lup.”


	3. fair cruelty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _let your fervor, like my master’s, be placed in contempt._   
>  _Farewell, fair cruelty._
> 
> \- William Shakespeare, Twelfth Night, Act 1 Scene 5

When her brother left the Underdark, Ren made a decision: she’d rather live her life regretting  _ doing _ something, than regretting  _ not _ doing something. The Underdark was safe, the Underdark was peaceful, but she wanted none of that peace: the spicy taste on her tongue as she tried Taako’s food for the first time  _ inspired  _ her to take a decision. Four months later, she left her childhood home.

She didn’t regret letting go of her past, she didn’t regret looking after Taako after their fortuitous encounter, she  _ did  _ regret taking Gundren Rockseeker’s job. She should have been more careful, she blamed herself for falling into an ambush. The couple of spells she cast didn’t hurt the gerblins at all and soon she was beaten and dragged to a nearby cave.

So, waking up with the aftertaste of a bitter Healing Potion in her mouth wasn’t that bad.

Ren blinked slowly and almost screamed when she found herself face to face with a smiling, hairy, pointy-toothed bugbear, looking down on her.

“Chill, Ren girl,” a familiar voice called and Taako’s head appeared from over the Bugbear’s shoulder. “Klaarg here is a friend.”

Ren gulped, her eyes darting between the two. “Wha- where?”

“You’re in my lair,” the bugbear spoke in suprisingly perfect Common, “I deeply apologize for the rudeness my employees had towards you, I solemnly swear there’s going to be a change in my society from now on…”

“Uh...right…” Ren looked around as Klaard gently put her down, carefully checking she could stand on her own. There were gerblin  _ bodies _ littering the cavern. “What happened? Gundren…”

“Boss Dwarf got  _ sold,” _ Taako shrugged. “Nothing we can do, I found a bunch of gold, though, we can go back to town.”

Ren frowned. “No.”

Taako rolled his eyes.

“We can’t just  _ leave  _ him!”

“I knew you’d say that...why are you always so,  _ so…” _ he wildly gestured at her, “Ren. Ren Girl, why are you so fucking Lawful Good?!”

Ren smiled.

As they left the cave, they could hear Klaarg’s shout as the Charm spell broke on him. Taako chuckled but Ren was frowning, still thinking about the gerblins in the cave.

If Taako was only a second level wizard and had obviously come rescue her on his own, how did he dispose of all of them alone?

-

Magnus didn’t like the abandoned factory. He didn’t like the smell of oil and the constant humm of arcane engines, he didn’t like the sand that always seemed to find a way to get in his shoes. He  _ absolutely despised _ on sight the man Julia and him came to see.

Slick black hair, black leather jacket and the same kind of smile Magnus already saw on Governor Kalen’s lips. Every inch of him was telling Magnus to cleft the man in twain: the only thing that was stopping him was that Julia was trying to have a civilized conversation with him.

“So, let me recap,” the man - Maarvey, he heard one of his underlings call him - sighed when Julia was done explaining. “You want to join the Hammerheads and hide from the Bureau of Balance, I get that much, but it seems to me you’re not putting enough on the table, baby.”

Marvey grinned, looking at Julia in a way that made Magnus’ blood boil.

“I am an expert Ranger, Magnus is a pretty decent...fighter,” she glanced at him and Magnus raised an eyebrow. Of course he was a fighter, what else could he be? “We can contribute to your manpower in the races and we don’t ask for a money compensation.”

Maarvey rubbed his cleanly shaved chin, yet another similarity with that slimy asshole Kalen. “You see,” he groaned, “I can’t just  _ hire _ anyone without knowing what you’re capable of. Why don’t you go on a little  _ quest _ for me, since we have a common enemy and all?”

Julia clenched her fists.

“I heard rumors a Bureau scientist found a way to brainwash bugbears.  _ I want  _ it,” he chuckled.

Julia’s eyes widened for a moment.  _ Fear?  _ No, recognition. She knew what Maarvey was talking about.  _ How? _ The longer he thought about the further the answer seemed to slip from Magnus’ mind.

“Why?” Julia asked.

“Why, as a prize! With a bugbear chained to the front of the battlewagon, my adversaries will know  _ you don’t fuck with Maarvey, _ silly girl!” The thug grabbed Julia’s chin, pressing a thumb on her mouth. “If you want my help, you’ll learn not to ask any more questions…”

Magnus saw  _ red. _ His fingers twitched and suddenly the air around him filled with darkness and whispers.

“Magnus, no!” Julia’s voice barely came through, but he chose to ignore it, focused instead on Maarvey’s shock and sudden fear. His fingers closed around the hilt of a weapon he didn’t have a moment earlier and with an animalistic scream, he swung it up and then down on the leader of the Hammerheads.

Maarvey’s body fell, almost perfectly cut in half, the wound cauterized as soon as the flaming blade touched the flesh. It was a less unpleasant smell than the oil, almost  _ familiar. _

“Magnus!  _ Magnus!” _ Julia’s voice came back, chasing away the whispers. Magnus blinked and turned to her.  _ Oh, she was so beautiful. _ He smiled.

Julia didn’t look scared, just a little surprised as the took in her surroundings: the rest of the Hammerheads silent and paralyzed in fear. She took a deep, long breath, pulled back her hair and tied it up, slowly walking to the metal chair Maarvey had been using as a throne. Magnus followed her, stepping behind the throne, still holding the Flaming Raging Poisoning Sword of Doom, ready to cut down anyone who dared to oppose their new  _ queen. _

“We’re going to have to change a few things around here.”

-

It was a stormy night, the night Angus left his childhood home.

He had no plan of leaving, just a bag with few clothes ready  _ just in case _ he and his grandpa were called to another city to solve a case in a rush.

They’d just finished dining and the boy was happily reading a Caleb Cleveland book by the fireplace.  _ Child books, _ his grandfather had  _ almost _ disapproved when he saw the kid reading them for the first time, but after Angus had explained how Caleb was his role model and the books actually gave good hints on how to solve a mystery, the old man softened.

Next Candlenights, he bought Angus a whole shelf of Caleb Cleveland books.

Angus knew his grandfather had a grey morality and wasn’t the best caretaker. Angus also loved his grandfather very much.

The old man was smoking a pipe, reading some notes in a language Angus hadn’t learned yet, when someone  _ banged _ at the door, insistently.

By the expression on his Grandfather’s face, Angus knew in an instant he wasn’t expecting anyone. Slowly, he put the pipe and notes down and approached the door, steps as silent as he was some kind of ethereal being.

He slowly slid the inspection window on the door. It was enchanted with a minor illusion spell: the people outside wouldn’t have been able to see he opened it. After a second, during which the old man seemed to tense, he slammed the window close and turned to Angus. “Go to your room.”

“Who’s-”

_ “Go to your room, now.” _ He repeated, more vehemently. “And close the door behind you.”

If he didn’t know him better, Angus would’ve said he was  _ scared. _ He grabbed his books and darted up the staircase, but instead of going straight to his room, he hid behind the rail and looked down in the foyer.

He watched as his grandfather opened the door and was almost  _ pushed _ as half a dozen of fully armed, soaking wet guards rushed into the house. They were wearing blue and silver colors, the colors of the Bureau.

“What is the meaning of this?!”

Slow, last, one more person walked in. She too was wearing armor, but a more fancy version of the one the guards donned. When she took off her helmet, holding it under her arm, Angus saw she was an orc, and a fairly young one too. “By the orders of Director Lucretia Miller,” she enunciated, looking straight ahead and not in the old man’s eyes, “the Regulators Division will now take Firebird and transfer her to a more secure location.”

_ “What?!” _ Angus flinched, hearing his grandfather’s voice dripping with malice. “You’ll do no such thing! She’s my charge!”

“Not anymore,” she finally turned to him. “Since Tourmaline escaped, the Director fears he’s going to look for her first.”

_ “They don’t even remember each other!” _ the old man shouted, in rage. “Get out of my house.”

The orc didn’t move. “You are aware of who you’re protecting? What that  _ thing _ is capable of?”

“Lup is a sweet girl,” he retorted and Angus felt his blood freeze. They were there for  _ Miss Lup?  _ Why?

“She’s a  _ monster,” _ the orc growled.

“I don’t care what she did! She doesn’t deserve to be thrown in a dark cage like you Regulators like to do, just because you’re  _ afraid! _ She doesn’t deserve to rot in the dark for something she doesn’t even remember doing!”

As this argument continued, Angus’ head started to hurt. He didn’t know what they were talking about, but he knew what he  _ had _ to do: he would’ve to go through the foyer to get to the kitchen, but maybe he was small enough to squeeze in the dumbwaiter.

“The Director wants to...” the orc guard’s words got lost as Angus sneaked away from the staircase, getting the travel bag in his room, before heading to the dumbwaiter. The situation downstairs was heating up, but he couldn’t distinguish the words anymore. He called the lift and, swallowing hard, crawled in, pressing the kitchen button just before the doors slammed shut.

For a few seconds of tense silence in the dark and cramped box, Angus feared the worst, then the elevator started moving and finally opened on the kitchen.

“Oh, my! Young Master! What are you doing?!” one of the maids exclaimed, seeing him. She helped him get out and back on his feet. “Does your grandfather know you’re doing such...such  _ tomfoolery,  _ young man? I’m sure better behavious is expected from the heir of-”

Angus didn’t bother to listen to the rest of the scolding, he darted through the kitchen until he saw Lup, cleaning dished in a corner, as peaceful as ever.

He grabbed her hand. “Miss Lup, we have to go!” he pulled her with urgency. “They’re looking for you, you have to run.”

Lup looked at him in shock and confusion.

“What the…?” the other kitchen maids started looking at the boy in confusion.

“There’s people called the Regulators who want to take you away!” he continued explaining. “Please, we have to run!”

There was noise, metallic noise, and he knew the armored guards were going to burst in the kitchen any moment. With all his strenght, he pulled Lup’s arm again, towards the pantry.

As soon as he shut the door behind them, the maids started screaming as the orc’s voice intimated them to stay calm. Angus looked around in panic, until he saw a small window, close to the ceiling, leading outside. He pulled Lup’s sleeve and pointed at it.

The elf still looked scared and confused, but understood, as she walked to the window and helped Angus to reach the window and sneak outside. Once outside he pulled her out and they hid  _ just in time _ before a guard slammed the pantry door open.

_ “Where is she?!” _ Angus heard the orc shriek.

“That is none of your-” Angus flinched as his Grandfather’s voice was cut by a loud metallic noise and the maids screamed again, before a long minute of stunned silence.

“Is he…?” a male unknown voice - probably belonging to one of the guards - asked hesitantly.

“Burn it.” The orc woman said, her voice almost wavering with fear. “Burn it to the ground, we’ll say it was her doing.  _ Hurry!” _

Angus was shaking like a leaf, but one look at Lup’s terrified face was enough to shake him from his shock. He grabbed her hand and started running, through the back gate and towards the city, into the pouring rain.

Not long after, they saw the light and the column of smoke rising from where they knew their house used to be.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back! I was unsure whether to publish this as I wrote or waiting for the whole fic to be finished, but it ends up I'm a sucker for feedback.  
> If you enjoyed _to play the fool_ you might want to subscribe to this one: I've already got the plot outlined and I'm very excited to write it. Updates will not be as fast as they used to be, though, I'm being careful with this one, don't want a rewrite.


End file.
